


no matter how many times the thunder hits

by etoilette



Series: AU-gust 2020 [17]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Promare, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 12:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25969726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoilette/pseuds/etoilette
Summary: “I don’t think I’m demanding something unreasonable from you, Akechi. I’m not asking you to kill all of those terrorists, or eradicate all the Burnish. I’m not even asking you to capture the Phantom Thieves.” Shido taps his forehead and asks, “Ah, but perhaps my age has gotten to me. What was it exactly that I asked you to do, again?”ORAkechi is the captain of the Freeze Force, and he's going to capture that gang of terrorist Burnish scum - the Phantom Thieves - if it's the last thing he does.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: AU-gust 2020 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860436
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	no matter how many times the thunder hits

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day #17 of AU-gust: Firefighters AU. Of course I chose to do a Promare AU with this prompt, because I'm not very sure what would be so interesting about a firefighters AU? In retrospect though, I could have done firefighters-themed strippers instead of giving myself a headache over this one.
> 
> Straight up, if you have never watched Promare, I'm pretty sure you won't get this. With my Fate AUs, I do try to keep things vague or explain deeper lore stuff, but I couldn't really find a good spot for this one. As opposed to Fate though, which is Not For Everyone, I definitely think if you haven't seen Promare yet, YOU SHOULD. What are you doing? Stop reading this and go watch Promare. Go!

Akechi clenches his fist as he watches the Phantom Thieves - a notorious group of Burnish terrorists - drive away, the one with the skull armour hooting loudly until the one with the red armour smacks him. Sumire’s breathing is laboured behind him, and when he looks down at her, she’s clutching an angry burn on her exposed arm, tears of pain in her eyes as she bites her trembling lip, no doubt trying to keep herself from crying.

It’s an ugly look on her face and Akechi sighs, reaching out with one hand and tugging her up by her good arm. “Yoshizawa, are you okay?” he asks, keeping his voice brusque and professional so she didn’t feel worse about the situation.

“I’m fine, Akechi-senpai,” she says, and her voice is surprisingly steady despite the pain she must be in. She doesn’t meet his eye though, and her gaze is downcast with regret. “My apologies for being such a burden.”

“You’re just a newbie,” Akechi says, even though what he really wants to say is yell at a mirror and Shido and Kasumi for foisting Sumire into the field when she hadn’t even completely finished her training. “It’s not your fault that you froze up like that.”

He brushes past Sumire before she could stammer out another excuse or apology, and slides into the Freeze Force car, arms crossed and eyes closed, his body language practically screaming “Don’t talk to me,” which was thankfully obeyed by the rest of the crew. Sumire scoots in after him, shutting the door, hunching in on herself as if she’s afraid that even her shoulder brushing against Akechi’s would cause him to explode.

The anger brewing in his chest is an inferno, threatening to explode out of him, and he clenches his jaw, practically willing himself to keep it together. He isn’t like Shido, who throws tantrums like a five-year-old, whose control over himself is as tenuous and fragile as a string. 

It was supposed to be a simple investigation into a report about a newly-manifested Burnish in downtown Shibuya. The plan had been to go in and make a quick arrest before too much damage could be done, but by the time they got there, the Burnish was under the protection of the Phantom Thieves, who were igniting an entire office building with their iridescent flames. 

The fight had been brief but brutal, as per usual. He doesn’t remember how many freeze bullets he shot out of his gun, or out of the mech suit Loki. He doesn’t recall how many times he had to throw himself onto the ground, scraping his cheek, just to avoid the Phantom Thieves leader’s flames.

“Damn you Burnish!” Akechi had yelled, standing protectively over Sumire’s fallen body after she had been bowled over by one of the Burnish’s motorcycles straight into lingering Burnish fire. The angry red injury on her arm may never be healed again, the scar a permanent reminder of his failure.  


The Phantom Thieves leader had removed the white visor part of his helmet at that, flashing what he must have thought was a charming grin at Akechi. It only served to increase his murderous intent towards the Burnish who had evaded them again and again and  _ again _ . 

“I’ve told you my name every time,  _ Captain Akechi _ ,” the leader had said, a teasing lilt in his tone. “It’s Akira.”

“I’ll be sure to tell the prison guard that myself when I book you in.”

The leader had laughed, even though Akechi didn’t tell a joke. Before he could say anything to Akechi’s taunt though, one of the Burnish - a girl with black fire trailing behind her neck like a scarf - ran up to him. 

“Leader, we managed to get all the new Burnish out.”

Sensing that they were about to make their escape, Akechi had shot his freeze bullets at them, tsking as the two Burnish immediately dodged out of the way, propelled to almost supernatural speed by using their flames to leap off the concrete, and summoned their motorcycles to ride down the building in a highly daredevil stunt. Akira had even tossed Akechi a sloppy salute as he drove by him.

He would have gone after them in the Loki but Sumire’s pained breathing was grating into his ear through the comms, and he could hear the angry voices of Burning Rescue as well, demanding that Freeze Force get out of the way so they could extinguish the building.

All in all, it was a disaster. Nothing new when it came to encounters with the Phantom Thieves, but it was the first time in a long while since any injuries occurred under his supervision.

He holds himself rigid the entire car ride back to HQ, the entire time he walks through HQ's glaringly sterile walls, and endures the whispers and points in his direction. By the time he is standing outside of Shido’s office, he is the very picture of calm and collected. He raps on the door three times, and calls out, “Shido-san, it’s Akechi.”

“Come in,” he just barely hears, Shido’s imperious voice muffled through the thick wood of the door.

Akechi opens the door and walks in, closing it gently behind him and taking his last chance to firmly affix his mask onto his face. When he turns back around, Shido is looking into the face of “the affable and professional Freeze Force captain.”

Shido appraises him for a second, his expression unreadable behind his tinted glasses and his steepled hands. When he speaks, his tone is quiet and calm, as if they’re talking about the weather rather than Akechi’s fuck-up. “I hear you failed to apprehend the Phantom Thieves yet again.”

Akechi nods, not trusting himself to speak just yet.

“I don’t think I’m demanding something unreasonable from you, Akechi. I’m not asking you to kill all of those terrorists, or eradicate all the Burnish. I’m not even asking you to capture the Phantom Thieves.” He taps his forehead and asks, “Ah, but perhaps my age has gotten to me. What was it exactly that I asked you to do, again?”

It’s a rhetorical question. Shido’s mind and memory are both still as sharp as a whip, and they both know it. Akechi swallows once, gives himself the time to collect himself.

“My task is to capture the leader of the Phantom Thieves, dead or alive,” he says, keeping his tone neutral, as if he’s talking about watering the garden or doing laundry. It wouldn’t do for Shido to hear any sort of emotion in his voice, for Shido to be given any ammunition to use against Akechi.

Shido nods, pleased with the answer. “That’s right. That’s good, Akechi. So you _do_ know what you’re supposed to do. Then why, pray tell, have you been on this same _goddamn_ _task_ since March?”

Shido doesn’t raise his voice, despite the angry edge in his voice now. It’s something about plausible deniability, Goro thinks, because if it comes out that Shido beats or yells at his team, then no matter how enchanted the public is by his charisma, he would be dropped like a sack of hot potatoes in an instant.

Akechi doesn’t respond. Doesn’t let Shido see  _ anything _ , choosing to stare at his boots. The frustration and anger swirl in his chest and he swallows, trying to force everything down.

“Do you think you have nothing else to do than to waste our money?” Shido asks, his tone acidic; he asks the question as if he truly expects an answer, a questioning lilt at the end of his words and an expectant raise of his eyebrow. “Do you think I have nothing better to do with my time than to wait for you to hand me the head of that insolent terrorist upstart?”

Those are rhetorical questions too, but Akechi shakes his head anyway, because if he doesn’t, then Shido won’t ever stop. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, biting his lip so hard that he could swear that blood is welling up.

_ Breathe _ , Akechi tells himself.  _ Just breathe.  _

“It’s been almost eight months now. If I had fucked a woman when I first gave you this assignment, she would’ve already given birth by now. Even a baby would be more useful than you.”

_ Breathe. Just breathe. _

“Of course it would be though, considering it’s  _ my _ son. I pity your father, Akechi, I truly do, for siring someone as useless as you.” 

_ Breathe. Just breathe _ , Akechi hears faintly in the distance. He thinks he does anyway, over the fierce roaring in his ears. So loud that it almost drowns out Shido’s next words.

“Or perhaps it’s the mother? I suppose you wouldn’t know, since I recall you mentioning that you were orphaned as a child. Weak women produce weak young, so I can’t be surprised -”

“Shut up.”

There’s a stunned silence that follows the feral snarl - Shido at the sheer audacity of someone interrupting him and telling him to stop talking, and Akechi at the pure venom in his words. He’s shaking. He can barely draw an even breath, his own breathing ragged in his ears. 

“What did you say, Akechi?” Shido asks. His tone is back to controlled and calm, as if they are discussing the weather. He stands and walks around the desk, each step echoing in Akechi’s ears as if they’re coming from far away. “I don’t believe I heard you properly. What. Did. You. Say?”

“I told you to shut the hell up, you piece of shit,” snaps Akechi, no longer caring about propriety at all. He can’t stop shaking, as if he’s experiencing some sort of adrenaline rush. “Don’t talk about my mother like that.”

He can’t get his breathing under control, can’t stop the way he keeps clenching his fists, even though he can feel the blood dripping down his knuckles and onto the floor. It feels like he’s about to cry or scream, the raspy burn in his chest and throat crawling up until it’s like he is going to throw up. 

Shido opens his mouth and Akechi opens his at the same time, prepared to cut off any further insults that Shido could lob his way and then -

X

The next thing he knows, he’s clad in white armour, on top of a motorcycle he feels like he’s ridden a million times before, in front of a cave. He doesn’t recall much of the frantic escape from Tokyo, until he reaches a secluded corner of the shore. 

He can barely recall what happened after his talk with Shido. Just that one second Shido was glaring at him with all the hatred in the world, and the next, Shido no longer had any eyeballs to look out of. Hysterical laughter bubbles out of Akechi’s throat at the thought and he claps a hand to his mouth. 

Oh, but he can’t block it, with the armoured helmet on his head. His clawed hands grasp at the unrelenting steel - hot and smooth to the touch, even through the gauntlets - and he can’t stop. He vaguely remembers leaping out of the window, remembers the shocked and betrayed look in Sumire’s eyes when Sumire saw what happened to him, as if Akechi had been hiding his Burnish status from her the entire time. 

Akechi settles onto the ground and closes his eyes. It takes some time and a lot of effort but he finally manages to will the armour away, and when it fades away, he’s still in his Freeze Force uniform. As if he could rejoin Freeze Force or set foot inside Tokyo ever again.

“So it’s true. You really are one of us now.”

Akechi jerks to his feet, hand immediately flying to the freeze gun on his belt, because whenever he hears  _ this _ voice, it’s in the midst of battle or a job. 

The familiar face of the Phantom Thieves leader is next to him, eyes wide with something close to innocent curiosity. He looks softer when he isn’t wearing the armour, and for the first time, Akechi can see that his messy black hair is actually styled that way. He can’t imagine anyone perpetually wanting to look like they just crawled out of bed but the Burnish have always been weird.

“How did you find me?” Akechi hisses. He aims the freeze gun at Akira but he doesn’t rest his finger on the trigger or click off the safety. Not yet.

“Navi has cameras everywhere,” Akira says, as if that’s supposed to answer any question. “I’m s-”

“If you’re going to say you’re sorry, then you can stuff it,” Akechi snaps, clicking the safety off the freeze gun. “I’m not supposed to be like this. I’m not supposed to be a monster like you.”

Akira doesn’t say anything for a long while, his eyes trained on Akechi rather than at the weapon trained at his heart. When he does speak, his tone is still friendly, as if Akechi’s outburst didn’t happen. “I wasn’t going to say I’m sorry. I was going to say that I’m so happy at you joining us. I always wanted to get to know you better, you know.”

Akechi scoffs but doesn’t say anything. In all his time fighting against the Phantom Thieves as a a captain in the Freeze Force, Akira has been a constant thorn in his side, and he supposes that the feeling is mutual. The last thing he needs is the leader of the Phantom Thieves lying straight to his face.

“If you need help with your powers or if you just want a sympathetic ear, there’s a place for you with us.”

“I have no plans to join the Phantom Thieves.”

“Ah, I mean,” Akira reaches up and fiddles with his bangs. It’s a strangely endearing motion from a renowned terrorist, and Akechi wonders if Akira ever feels the urge to tug at his hair even through the Burnish armour. “You don’t have to join  _ us _ , though that would be pretty cool. You’re a pretty good fighter if you could keep up with us without always using that weird machine, and -”

“It’s not a weird machine. It’s  _ Loki _ .”

“ - and we live in a settlement not so far away from here. There are normal Burnish there too, just trying to live out their lives in peace. You’re always welcome to join.”

Akechi isn’t surprised to hear that. There are only eight members in the Phantom Thieves, to his knowledge, and there is most definitely more Burnish in the world than a paltry eight. It’s always been a running theory of the Freeze Force that there is some sort of Burnish hideout in Japan, but no one’s ever been able to find it.

If Akira had approached Akechi with this even a week ago, everything could have been averted. His life wouldn’t have been upended so bad, though he would still be under Shido’s thumb. 

Then again, if Akechi hadn’t become a Burnish and killed off the main threat to the Phantom Thieves, Akira wouldn’t have extended a helping hand at all.

“It’s fine,” Akechi snaps. He holsters the useless gun again and, scrunching up his face in concentration, encases himself in the Burnish armous once more. He even manages to pull up his motorcycle, which definitely isn’t as comfortable as the Loki’s cockpit, but is admittedly much faster. “I don’t need your charity.”

Akira backs away. Akechi could swear there’s something like regret or disappointment in his eyes but a blink later, and it’s gone. Replaced by Akira’s usual smug smile. 

“If you’re sure,” he says. He reaches into his pocket and tosses a piece of red paper Akechi’s way. When he catches it reflexively and looks at it, he isn’t surprised to see what appears to be Akira’s phone number and an address scrawled on it. “If you change your mind, though, that’s where you can find us. And me, of course.”

“I’m never going to crawl to you.”

“Just in case.”

Akechi flips him the bird and zooms off, ignoring Akira’s parting wave when he drives by him. There is an immature urge in him telling him to try running Akira over, but Akira can pull up his Burnish armour in a heartbeat and he’s managed to win against Akechi in a straight fight of brutal strength before while Akechi was in the Loki. He would be the one getting crushed, loathe as he was to think about it.

The business card is crushed between his palm and the handlebar of his motorcycle. Without even consciously thinking about it, he allows bright pink fire to engulf his hand, burning his tenuous connection to Akira and the rest of the Burnish community into ash.


End file.
